


Five Places Sarah Jane Smith Never Had Sex

by Leyenn



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-15
Updated: 2009-11-15
Packaged: 2017-10-02 22:53:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leyenn/pseuds/Leyenn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Written for Ladyvivien for the Five Things Meme.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Five Places Sarah Jane Smith Never Had Sex

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ladyvivien](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyvivien/gifts).



> Written for Ladyvivien for the Five Things Meme.

**1.**

_Thank God it's impossible to scratch this paintwork,_ she thinks hazily. Vacuum-cold alien skin pretending to be 1940's paintwork, flashes of bright vivid blue out of the corner of her eye as he slides into her.

Does it know? she wonders. Can it - _she_ \- feel this, the pale sunlight, the pressure of them grinding together, the rhythm of his hips flowing through them both? Is it - _she_ \- alive enough for that?

He grips her wrist, unable to concentrate enough to find her fingers, so she clenches them into a fist instead, bites her lip in an effort not to shriek.

He's not so restrained. He makes a soft noise that could almost be her name, hissed over the sweating skin of her throat, a choked surrender at long, long last. What should be blue-painted wood is harder behind her back with each circle of his hips, the edge of a panel digging into her left buttock... and what is really unimaginable alien life looms over her, watching her, and she thinks _it knows, oh it knows._

"She knows," he whispers, and she groans, smiling, twisting her fingers in the tailored pinstripe of his suit.

"Oh, Doctor..."

  


*

  


**2.**

There are... rocks. Lots and lots of rocks.

She wonders if one day they'll manage to land on an alien planet that doesn't look like the back end of a Welsh quarry. Maybe a nice tropical world, she'd like that. Or somewhere with a lot of sea - she hasn't had chance to visit the beach in what seems like a very long time and even if the sand does get everywhere, at least it would be a change from rocks.

"Sarah?" he says, very softly, in that way he has of smiling her name, and she smiles back as he wraps his arms, his presence around her and holds on tight. The moons start to come up on the horizon even as the local star goes down, and she shivers at a sudden dusk breeze. He leans into her back and draws her in against his chest, inside the folds of his coat, a softness of scarf against her cheek as she lifts her head.

Rocks it is, then.

  


*

  


**3.**

Harry runs his tongue down the length of her thigh, and she wonders if she's doing this because she wants to, or just because she'll never get what she wants.

He's quite good at this, though, so she doesn't really think she's going to mind that much if it turns out to be the latter. He starts upward again, and she lets out a low little moan just for some encouragement. She isn't sure how often he's had this kind of opportunity - not often, she'd guess - so she's hoping it won't need too much more to get him to let go a bit.

"Harry," she breathes, trying to be a little bit careful to sound breathless. It's really rather chilly in here what with the stone walls and only one flaming torch, and it being a slave pit and all that - by her reckoning they only have a few hours before the Doctor gets around to rescuing them, so she's not going to waste any moments or indeed, any chances to get it right.

Harry looks up and pulls her towards him before she can say anything else. She smiles at the flash of light in his eyes, even if it is just the torchlight.

Yes, she wants this.

  


*

  


**4.**

"I'm old enough to be your-" _mother_ but she never gets to finish the sentence, because Rose is just as impulsive with her as with everything, it seems. She remembers being that young and fierce, once, and she'd be lying if that's not a little tiny part of why she kisses back.

"I thought you and he," she starts on another tack, as Rose drags her through the TARDIS corridors.

Rose laughs. "So? I thought you-"

She blushes. "Well, that was a long time ago now."

Rose slows down to really look at her, then, and suddenly she feels like the young one. But not nearly as fierce, oh no - not at all, in fact.

"He did... talk about you once," Rose says then, very quiet, like an apology. "Didn't realise it was you at the time, though. Sorry."

She smiles. "Time enough to make up for that now," and at the sight of a remembered door, _fierce_ comes back to her in a flood. This time she laughs. "Come on, I'll bet you've never been in this room."

  


*

  


**5.**

She slams him back against the wall: he grabs her shirt in one hand, tears it in frustration as he drags her on top of him on the bed. She gasps in a quick breath: he growls and works both hands under the remains of not-quite-expensive satin, fingers hot on her skin.

It's a big, wide bed, freshly made in beige and cream and a hideous throwover made from sickly flowered suede to match the blandest of pictures on the magnolia walls. No overhead light, but three corner lamps - or is it four - she doesn't really care, it's not like they're paying by the watt - are enough to throw a hot golden light on them now. She wishes it would burn.

He's working her skirt down and taking her underwear with it, just as practised at this as he promised so boldly. She doesn't care how he's managed it: he sees nothing wrong in himself, so she'd be hard pressed to do the same. She reaches out and unbuckles his trousers, shoves his t-shirt up with one hand spread out across his belly. He makes a sound, unhooks her bra with two fingers, pushes on her back and arches up and there are kisses now, for the first time since they fell through the door.

She kisses him hard and viciously, and he returns it just the same. His hands on her hair are gentle. She bites his lip and he groans.

"Sarah..."

"Jack," she mutters thickly into his mouth, "shut up and screw me senseless, please."

He looks up into her eyes, which is tantamount to a yes in any language, and then they pretend this will mean they're not both as broken as they are and that one day he's coming back.

  


*

  



End file.
